


A Strange Sort of Peace

by JamesDeanPrincess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mark of Cain, Mark of Cain Cure, No Spoilers, Supernatural - Freeform, hella fluff, late-night research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:05:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4043431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesDeanPrincess/pseuds/JamesDeanPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's up late, and you don't want him to be. Fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Strange Sort of Peace

You awoke suddenly from an unknown stimulus. It was much too quiet, regardless of the fact that it was four in the morning. _Something’s wrong._ You thought. On your stomach, your hand slid down between the mattress and the headboard to grasp the cold steel handle of your .45. You sat up quickly and cocked your pistol, doing a quick sweep of the bedroom. Upon determining there was in fact no danger, you de-cock your gun and put it back in its place. Rubbing your eyes and turning to the right, you discover an empty space where your boyfriend was sleeping a few hours prior. Groaning, you stumbled out of bed and into the cold hallway in search for your missing lover.

Sam sat at a table in the library, poring through a few dusty lore books and scrolling through tens of tabs on the internet, no doubt for hints on how to decode the Book of the Damned. His hair was ruffled from running his hands through it many times in his stress, his pajamas slightly wrinkled from tossing restlessly in bed for a few hours. He took a drink of his cold coffee and cross-checked something on the internet with a book. He wasn’t tired, only a little unstimulated due to the lack of information that was coming through his filter. His optimism made him believe it would be easier to find a solution this time, but it wasn’t. It never is. He was scrawling some notes across a yellow legal pad with plans to show Rowena, hoping they would speed things along. If not, maybe it would useful in another area.

Or maybe that was his optimism again, always getting the better of him.

He switched tabs and turned a couple pages in one of the books, making another note, when he heard something in the hallway. Turning around, he saw you emerge: eyes closed to block out the bright light, hair tangled from sleep, and wearing his shirt from the day before. “Sammy come to bed.” You whined, leaning against the wall for support.

“In a minute babe; I’m almost done.” Sam replied, smiling and turning back to his work.

“You say that every night. I swear you never sleep. Just come to bed with me. Please?” you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his biceps and leaning your head on his shoulder, eyes still closed.

“I have to find out some way to decode this damn Book. Once I find a way, then I’ll sleep.” He said. “This isn’t healthy. If you’re not at your best, Dean will never be.” This still didn’t sway him, so you nuzzled into his neck and said, “And I’m so cold and lonely without my big strong hunter beside me.” Sam chuckled, but still did not get up to accompany you to bed.

“I promise after fifteen more minutes, I’ll come to bed with you.”

“Five.”

“Ten.”

“Fine,” you agreed. “But in the meantime I’m staying here and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” And you climbed into his lap, laying your head on his shoulder with your arms hugging tightly beneath his armpits, bare legs straddling his lap.

Sam smelled your shampoo and felt your gentle breath on his chest. He ran one hand up and down your back and the other up and down the soft skin of your thigh and kissed the top of your head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He smiled and went back to work.

You fell asleep quickly on his lap, and therefore didn’t notice that Sam stayed at the table in the library for an hour rather than your ten minute compromise. He was finally beginning to feel fatigue creeping up on his eyes, his brain, and his hands, and decided that where he was at would be a fair stopping point, at least until after a few hours of sleep.

As he was shutting down his laptop and placing crude bookmarks in the books, he heard you sigh happily in your sleep. He smiled and stood up, tucking one arm underneath your butt and supporting your back and head with the other. He laid you down on your side of the bed and climbed in on the other, immediately pulling your limp body to his and swathing the covers over both of your tired bodies. You wiggled closer to him in your sleep and he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

Sam left his research unfinished and his questions unanswered, but as he lay beside you in the bed you shared, sleep beginning to overtake him, the stress seemed to simply melt away. You had this power over him—over all the Team Free Will boys actually—that made him feel in his gut that everything was going to be okay.

And it would, as long as you were by his side to make it so.


End file.
